


Your Home

by Try2CatchMe



Series: Sanctuary 'verse [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:31:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Try2CatchMe/pseuds/Try2CatchMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am going to take a shower. You are going to spend the time I'm in the shower fighting over ice cream flavors, not making sympathetic faces. When I get out, there will be ice cream. That is all."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Home

**Author's Note:**

> Guess who should have been asleep an hour ago!!

It was bound to happen eventually, especially with how well the day had been going so far.

Dean had wanted burgers for dinner. Once upon a time, this would have sounded like an excellent plan to Adam. However, with the whole 'recently been to Hell and now far too familiar with the smell of cooking flesh' thing, he wasn't exactly chomping at the bit for a quarter-pounder.

Still, Adam was stubborn. Some would say this was a Winchester thing, but he preferred to think he got that particular trait (as well as every other trait he had, similarities between him and Dean be damned) from his mother. Say what you like about her kind demeanor, she could dig her heels in with the best of them.

It wasn't the smell that had done it or even the eating the thing, the burger was great. Dean got teased a lot for his domestic proficiency at the grill and Cas hovered nearby, looking like he wanted to pick up a hamburger patty and eat it _raw_ which, disturbing. Sam was looking shifty and messing around on his smart phone, so Adam just assumed he was hacking into the department of defense or sexting someone and gratefully took a water bottle when Samandriel offered it.

Nope, what did it was when the fire pit was doused.

Water hit hot coals, sizzled louder than the meat ever had, and Adam dropped.

He didn't know exactly how long he was trapped inside his own head, surround sound, smell, and sight pulled from the depths of his trapped memory, but when he came to he was flat on his back in the damp grass. Samandriel had one hand on his chest, pushing gently up and down, forcing Adam to relearn the mechanics of breathing.

To be fair, this was actually needed as he nearly stopped breathing _again_ when he notice the angel was straddling him.

That was one way to get all thoughts of Hell to immediately flee his brain.

Okay, this had passed weird, skipped ridiculous entirely, and cruised straight on in to insane.

But still, different things to think about at the moment. Like how he was going to kill Trevor Paisley, who had introduce him to the Kinsey scale in Junior year and made him admit he was probably a one or two, but definitely not a zero.

That _bastard_.

"Adam!" Sam was doing the eyebrows of extreme worry at him, "Are-"

"If you ask me if I'm okay," He rasped, "I will remove your eyes with Dean's barbecue tongs."

"Yeah, he's fine."

He let his head thud back against the ground and heaved out a breath. Samandriel still hadn't gotten off him. Because that was his life, apparently.

"I have mud in my hair, don't I?"

"Yes."

"Awesome."

"Alfie says it's an improvement."

"Screw you, Alfie." He pushed himself onto his elbows and Samandriel got the hint, scrambling off him so he could get up. He dusted himself off and straightened up with a huff. "I am going to take a shower. You are going to spend the time I'm in the shower fighting over ice cream flavors, not making sympathetic faces. When I get out, there will be ice cream. That is all."

Then he stomped inside.

One cold shower and a bout of beating his head against the wall tiles later, he wandered into the kitchen, towel-drying his hair, and saw the table covered in a veritable rainbow of pints of ice cream.

"Umm..."

Sam was actually the one who looked sheepish. Dean looked like he was about to bust something laughing, Castiel had his head tilted, and Samandriel was holding a spoon like he didn't know what it was for.

"The angels have never tried ice cream before...?" Sam offered as an explanation.

Adam just shook his head and tossed his towel over his shoulder. He scooped up a mint chocolate chip pint and tossed it at Samandriel, "Try that."

An hour and a dozen pints of ice cream later, the humans were lounging in the living room hating themselves and the angels were finishing off the rocky road.

Okay, so Adam's life wasn't the _actual_ worst.

"No more ice cream ever again," He groaned, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in a throw pillow.

Sam was a massive tangle of limbs, folded in an armchair closest to the bathroom and looking like he was trying not to be sick, "I can't believe I let you guys talk me into that."

"Moose tracks for the moose." Dean muttered from the floor and Adam decided he didn't want to know.

He peeked over at the kitchen instead, where both angels seemed to have discovered their sweet tooth and were passive-aggressively trying to eat more than the other, "Oh my God, where are they putting it all?"

"You should see Cas drink," Dean muttered into the carpet. "He does a line of shots without blinking."

"You should see him on a _bender_ ," Sam countered.

"How does an angel go on a bender?"

"He drinks a liquor store."

Dean huffed a laugh into the floor, "That sounds like a bad joke, but it's actually our lives."

"Our lives _are_ a bad joke," Adam pointed out.

His oldest brother pointed at him in acknowledgement, then let his arm thump to the ground.

Castiel walked into the room then, just as somber as ever, which was hilarious because he had a smear of chocolate at the corner of his mouth, "We should go, if you still wish to leave early in the morning."

Sam nodded and reluctantly stood, "Yeah, we probably should."

Dean just moaned and tried to press closer to the floor.

Adam didn't even bother lifting his head from the pillow, he just waved in their vague direction, "See you guys when I see you, try not to die or get stuck in Hell again, thanks for the defenses, bye."

He could _hear_ Sam's frown, "I put both our numbers on the fridge. Get a cell phone soon and let us know yours."

"You're not my babysitters." Adam muttered petulantly, but they both knew he would. Getting a cell was a small price to pay for not having to deal with hunters breathing down his neck.

"Check in at least once a week."

"Yes, _dad_."

"And practice the banishing sigil," Dean muttered, "You're shit at it."

"I'm so glad I met my long-lost half brothers and we now have a loving, encouraging relationship."

"You should be."

"Seriously, take care kid."

And then they were gone. The house seemed oddly quiet for the five seconds it took before Samandriel shuffled in to the living room.

"You and Castiel get things worked out?" Adam asked, looking up.

Samandriel smiled, "Yes. Officially, he is still my superior, though order no longer means much in Heaven. If anyone questions my presence here, I can say I am following orders. He will not return to Heaven or answer their summons, but we will be sure to keep abreast of each other's location. We are the last two of our garrison, we intend to 'stick together'."

"Good," Adam buried his face back in the pillow, "I'm glad one of your brothers isn't a dick."

"As am I," Samandriel sounded amused, "Are you not going to bed?"

"I don't want to move, I'll stay here. You use my bed, don't think I've forgotten about you needing to rest."

"Adam," the angel wasn't using his serious voice, but he was close, "It is unlikely I will awaken until I am fully healed if I sleep. It may take some time."

"That's okay, I can sleep in my mom's room." Technically, this was true. He _could_ sleep in his mom's room. He _wouldn't_ but he _could_. He hadn't even been able to open the door yet, no way was he sleeping in there.

Samandriel seemed to hesitate before giving in, "If you insist."

"I do. Go, sleep." Adam was already nearly there himself. There was a slight touch to the back of his head, like fingers running through his hair, then he was out.

Two hours later, he woke screaming from the worst nightmare he'd ever had.

He didn't get a chance to fully awaken, though. There was a soft, calming hand against his forehead, his cheek, his chest, then after a moment, warmth at his back and strong arms circling him from behind.

He felt comforted rather than constricted and sank back into unconsciousness, clutching the feeling tightly.


End file.
